


maybe we found love right where we are

by princessrosberg



Category: Football RPF
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Best Friends, Fluff, Friendship, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-29 22:19:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10145807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessrosberg/pseuds/princessrosberg
Summary: The five times Dele and Harry almost kissed and the one time they did.(or the pining fic nobody asked for)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on something much bigger for these two but in the meantime i wanted to write something shorter and post it. I hope you all love these two just as much as i do !! The time line is probably completely fucking wrong but w/e just enjoy boys being dumb and pining :)

The first time was bound to be a disaster. And really, it wasn't like Dele was all that bothered. He'd just gotten bored on the flight, and Harry had that adorable pout on his lips while he watched some shitty in flight movie. And the sudden urge to just lean forward and peck his lips was too much. He just hadn't taken into account that the rest of his teammates were about, or the fact the second he'd lean forward they'd hit turbulence.

 Dele ended up smacking his head against the seat in front of him, which just pulled that adorable laugh from Harry before he'd asked Dele if he was okay. He was too embarrassed to say anything, so just nodded and went back to listening to his music. Harry had smiled, said something about him being an idiot and rubbed his thumb across Dele's probably bruising forehead in such an affectionate way.

He payed no attention to his sudden racing heart.

\---

 The second time there was definitely a harder desire there. Dele had gotten the call from Gareth for the England call ups, and once the slight confusion of who he was going away with had settled, the smile never dropped from his face. He'd only been out of training for a few minutes, in his sweat covered clothes with flushed cheeks and still trying to catch his breath.

Harry had been sat beside him, as he always was, listening in with that gorgeous bright smile on his face as he’d pieced everything together. Of course the minute he’d gotten off the phone Harry had dived at him, straddled his lap and wrapped his arms around Dele’s neck like it was the most normal thing in the world – for them, it was.

And after what had felt like an eternity Harry pulled away and smiled softly, whispered how _proud_ he was and bumped their foreheads together in the affectionate way they always do. Though for the first time ever, Dele’s pulse had raced, his cheeks felt hotter than usual and he didn’t want to stop himself from leaning closer and closer.

If it hadn’t of been for Kyle bounding into the changing rooms then Dele is pretty sure he would have kissed Harry there and then.

\---

 The third time has been even more disastrous than the first. Dele wasn’t one to drink, in fact he avoids it when possible really, but Eric had insisted that they go out clubbing, and he daren’t say no to Eric. He just hadn’t taken into account how bad he usually is with alcohol, nor that it would most definitely give him that needed confidence to try and kiss Harry once again.

The fact that Harry was barely even tipsy made the situation that much more embarrassing, because in his drunk state Dele had misjudged everything and ended up in a mess on the floor. It was apparently hilarious to everyone else. And Harry being the oh so sweet boy he is, had just softly giggled along and reached his hand out to pick Dele up.

He hadn’t remembered much the morning after, but Eric had made the point to pull stupid kissy faces at him the entire day, which had unwillingly jogged his memory and left him an embarrassed mess for the rest of the day.

\---

The fourth time had been special. Not so much for Dele, since he’d been sat on the bench, but for Harry. He’d wanted to play of course, and he’d be dead before missing a game, but Poch had stared him down and demanded that he had to stay on the bench and recover from his injury. Dele wanted to argue, but he knew he wouldn’t of won, so just reluctantly agreed.

And after it, he was so glad. Because Harry had his debut in place of him and it couldn’t of gone any better for him. Not everyone gets a goal on their team debut.

He’d been the first on Harry – or well, the second since Poch had been even more excited than them all. But that hadn’t mattered, because everyone was just so happy and proud and if it wasn’t for the cameras everywhere Dele would of grabbed Harry by the shirt and kissed him right there on the pitch.

They’d settled for a soft hand touch instead.

\---

The fifth time was the surest Dele had ever been. It wasn’t anything special either; they had been lounging across his sofa for the past five hours in soft jumpers and grey joggers watching reruns on Netflix. The cuddling and shared blankets wasn’t anything new to them, but the gentle touches and slight glances were. Neither had said anything when their fingers touched, or when Dele had made the bold move to twine them together, or even when Harry had rubbed his thumb across the top of Dele’s hand.

And then he’d looked down at Harry’s soft lips, watched him bite down slightly before they’d parted and he’d turned to look at Dele. And god he’d never been so sure about something in his fucking life.

Looking back on it now he’d been an idiot, because the look in Harry’s eyes should have been enough – more than enough in fact – but he’d just stopped himself, laughed quietly and turned back to the TV.

The desire hadn’t ever gone away since that moment.

\---

He’d been caught completely off guard this time. It was just a normal training session – though a training session to Dele was just pissing about with his best friends – and that’s exactly what he’d done. It couldn’t of been any more normal. Eric still squirted water at him, Sonny still made stupid jokes and Poch still watched like a proud father.

The only thing that had been different was Harry, who’d been on his own on the opposite side of the grass looking deep in thought. Dele had caught his gaze, smiled at him and waved in the stupid way he does to catch his attention. He just didn’t think Harry would storm over looking so annoyed – though he still looked adorable, even with his brows furrowed and his lips pouted out.

And he certainly didn’t think Harry would grab his training jumper around the collar, tug him down until they were eye level and kiss him.

It wasn’t anything like Dele thought it would be, he’d expected it to be more romantic, under the stars or in the rain. But this was even better, because it was just so them. And even though Dele had to lean down in the most uncomfortable position and leave his arms awkwardly by his side, it couldn’t have been much more perfect.

“You are a fucking idiot,” Well, there are more romantic things Harry could of said after pulling away with wet lips and flushed cheeks. Dele curled his arms around Harry’s waist, lifted him to his tiptoes and mumbled that he _was just as much as an idiot as he_ was before kissing him again.


End file.
